


How They Do It

by stargarya



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargarya/pseuds/stargarya
Summary: From flirting to bed.
Relationships: Brad Colbert/Ray Person
Kudos: 39





	How They Do It

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Так они это делают](https://archiveofourown.org/works/703888) by [SleepSpindles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepSpindles/pseuds/SleepSpindles). 



This is how they flirt.

Brad goes through Ray's entire family tree, grinning at him with cocked eyebrows. He bad-mouths his mother, his birth itself, his education. But he never belittles Ray as a Marine; there is a line that they don't cross.

Ray enthusiastically flirts back: moves his eyebrows, pouts his lips and promises to suck him off, which immediately catches Brad's attention.

Ray sulks when Brad doesn't let him sing cowboy songs. He always knows what Brad is looking for, what he thinks before he even says anything. Brad mirrors this remarkably well.

This is how they kiss.

Brad wants, so Ray gives. Brad doesn’t take the first step, as if he’ll betray some sort of internal code if that happens, as if he’ll become less of a Marine or a man. Ray immediately convinces him that this is all bullshit with his tongue and his fingers gripping his neck. Then he lets Brad take it. They change position, and now Brad squeezes Ray’s wrists, leaving marks where veins shine through the skin.

Brad feels one hundred percent the Iceman when Ray's cock rubs against his hip, when he bites Ray's lower lip. Ray likes it when it’s bleeding, likes to feel Brad licking it, tasting it. Brad's lips are hot and demanding; he needs so much. He needs to bite on Ray's throat and leave his marks. He wants to see them on Ray's skin. He wants _everyone_ around to know that Ray is his.

This is their foreplay.

Ray finger-fucks himself, opening himself up for Brad, because fuck, he’s wanted this for three fucking months, and now Brad is here; if he doesn’t fuck him now, Ray’s gonna do it himself.

“Mother _fucker_ ,” Brad’s eyes are fixed on his fingers, thrusting in and out of his tight hole. “So does that… feel good?”

Ray rolls his eyes in indignation, but the sweat shining between his eyebrows reveals his true feelings. “Fuck, yeah,” he says with a gasp, just to make a show out of it. “You’ll see.” Brad's eyebrows immediately shoot up into the sky. “What? You think I’ve never fantasised about how tight and hot your ass would be, Brad? But since I'm an actual saint, I’ll let you fuck me first.”

Brad laughs, and the (definitely sexual) tension seeps through. “Ray, actually the biggest thing I was counting on tonight was your mouth on my dick.”

“Well, now I'm here,” Ray grins. “We have this room for three days, and then I’ll have twelve more weeks and a lot more ways to spice up my handjobs.”

“Ray.”

“I mean– Fuck, Brad, actually, you denigrating my mother always turned me on. Also, remember how you ran around that field shirtless and everyone was staring, even the LT with his lustful eyes–”

“Ray?”

“Yeah, Brad?”

“Fuck, shut up.”

This is how they fuck.

Brad fucks Ray face to face, crashing their lips together, opening his mouth while his cock moves deep inside. He runs his fingernails over the pale skin of Ray's chest, and Ray moves closer, pushing back, moaning and not shutting up about how hot Brad is, how huge, how much he loves his fucking mind-blowing dick.

Brad brings him down and covers his mouth with his palm, simultaneously thrusting harder. Ray bites his palm, Brad removes his hand and clamps Ray's arms over his head. Then he finds the perfect angle at which he hits Ray's prostate spot-on. Suddenly Ray loses all ability to speak; his eyes fall wide open, his mouth parts in ecstasy from Brad’s every thrust inside.

“Talk,” Brad mutters, biting his jaw; Ray just stares at him. “Talk or I’ll stop.”

“Don’t–” Ray chokes on air. “Don’t even, _oh, fuck–_ think about stopping–”

Brad grins. “I want to see you come all over yourself, see you covered in your own come, you dirty little fucker.”

“Oh, fuck.” Ray breathes hotly. His whole chest is wet and dotted with red marks from Brad's fingers.

“Come on, Ray, come on. Come for me.”

“Oh, you think that’s how it is?” Ray laughs. “You think I'm some kind of slut that just comes on your command?”

Brad thrusts in deeper, then pulls Ray up and into his lap.

“Exactly. I think you’re a little brat who really wants to come and it drives you crazy. But you want me to come first, so that you can whine and complain.”

Ray wraps his legs around him and knocks him onto his back, straddling him. Brad freezes for a short second, mesmerised. For a moment, he’s brought back to Iraq when he first thought of Ray in this way: Matilda, Ray taking off his sweatshirt, the shade from the camouflage net drawing lines on his hips, skin and all of his goddamn tattoos. And now he’s here, all marked up with Brad's nails and teeth, his chest glistening with sweat, his cock twitching with every movement. And Brad just can't hold back anymore.

“Fuck, Ray,” he growls, getting up again and yanking Ray onto himself, crashing their mouths together. He comes inside him, and Ray follows, spilling out between them; hotly, sweetly, gluing them together. Then Brad sucks another mark on him. “Mine,” he wheezes, digging his fingers into Ray’s wet hair, sucking the skin behind his ear.

“Possessive bastard,” Ray laughs softly.

Brad watches him carefully, and Ray shakes his head, rolling his eyes.

“You wanted me to say that, didn't you?” Brad counters.

Ray sighs. “I was already yours when you said your epic “I need my RTO” line, okay?”

Brad lies down beside him, smiling. “I can't believe you just quoted Jerry Maguire on me. You're really fucking gay, Person.”

“Says the dude whose come is still oozing from my ass, so that’s not just me.” Brad stretches lazily, rolls over again and runs his finger over the hickey on Ray's collarbone. “But I'm not going to fuck you over, Brad. That is the whole difference.”

“I know,” he smiles. “Go to sleep.”

“Mmmm,” Ray mutters sleepily and closes his eyes, knowing that when he opens them, Brad will be still there. He still feels Brad's fingers gently pressing over the marks sucked into his skin. _“Mine.”_


End file.
